


When Sherlock Met Mike: A Stamlock Tale

by RubraSaetaFictor



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crack, Humor, M/M, Meet-Cute, Missing Scene, Pre-Episode: s01e01 A Study in Pink, Screenplay/Script Format, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-28
Updated: 2015-09-28
Packaged: 2018-04-23 20:22:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4890850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubraSaetaFictor/pseuds/RubraSaetaFictor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A chance meeting in London’s finest purveyor of scientific equipment changes the Sherlock’s life in a way he couldn’t have anticipated. Sherlock Holmes/Mike Stamford (100% silly).  </p>
<p>A prequel of sorts to Jolie_Black’s <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/2250372"> Dust is Eloquent. </a></p>
            </blockquote>





	When Sherlock Met Mike: A Stamlock Tale

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jolie_Black](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jolie_Black/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Dust is Eloquent](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2250372) by [Jolie_Black](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jolie_Black/pseuds/Jolie_Black). 



> Sometimes you comment on something, and then the author comments back and then you comment again and then, well you know. 
> 
> _Me, after reading Dust is Eloquent: This begs the question, but how did Sherlock meet Mike?_
> 
> Jolie_Black: Oh, but I don't care. Mike is not in love with Sherlock*, so where would be the fun in writing that encounter? ;-) (* erm - for all we know... I know this fandom has a couple of very strange pairings going around, but Shermford or whatever it would be called I really haven't seen yet...) 
> 
> _Me: Re: Mike/Sherlock. I imagine it'd be Stamlock, and it'd be a meet-cute at the local Beakers, Bunsens and Beyond. ;)_
> 
> Jolie_Black: Gah, how do I get THAT mental image out of my head now??? But "Stamlock" is priceless. Someone needs to write a parody with that theme.
> 
>  
> 
> _Ask, and ye shall receive…_

**_THE PATHOLOGY LAB AT ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S HOSPITAL, LONDON_ ** _. Molly Hooper, in her lab coat, is seated on a stool at a bench with her back to the door. She is looking into a microscope, studying a sample. Across the way, Mike Stamford, also in a lab coat over his shirt and tie, is looking at a laptop screen and tapping a pencil lightly on the table. He looks up at Molly, then back at his screen. The tapping grows more vigorous, until the pencil leaps out Mike’s fingers and clatters to the floor. He bustles out of his chair and reaches down to grab it. He looks up at Molly again._

MIKE: I’m feeling a bit peckish. Can I get you something from the machine?

MOLLY: ( _Not looking up_ ) I’m fine.

MIKE: Those crisps you like? On me.

MOLLY: ( _Still not looking up)_. I’m really fine.

_Mike shuffles out of the lab. Molly removes the slide from her microscope. Takes a pipette and drops some solution from a beaker onto a new slide and places it on the microscope stage. Mike returns, two bags of crisp in hand._

MIKE: I got you some anyhow. You can save them for later if you’d like.

_Mike’s hand juts out toward Molly, presenting her with the crisps while simultaneously knocking over her beaker, spilling the fluid in her lap and crashing the beaker to the floor where it shatters. Molly leaps up off her stool._

MOLLY: Mike!

MIKE: I’m so sorry. Let me get a – ( _he look around for a towel or something and finds, nothing in reach)._

MOLLY: It’s fine Mike. I’ll just change or something.

MIKE: What was that?

MOLLY:  Saliva. Lots of saliva. ( _Molly removes her coat, which is now covered in spit. She sighs.)_ That was my last beaker too.

MIKE: I’ll get one from the storeroom.

MOLLY: No. It was really the last one. I don’t have the budget to purchase more until next month.

_Mike looks chagrined. Molly fixes her eyes on Mike._

MOLLY:  You’re going to have to go get some yourself.

MIKE: But I hate that place.

MOLLY: I really need to finish that analysis today, Mike.

MIKE: Oh, all right.

_Mike shrugs off his own lab coat and tosses it on top of his laptop, before grabbing a tweedy blazer and heading out the door._

 

**_BUNSENS, BEAKERS AND BEYOND – EXTERIOR._ ** _Mike stands in front of the massive, glossy, yet bland storefront and sighs. He heads toward the automatic doors._

****

**_BUNSENS, BEAKERS AND BEYOND – INTERIOR._ ** _Mike stands in front of a brightly lit shelf of beakers with a red plastic shopping basket on his arm. There are at least fifteen kinds, differentiated from each other in ridiculously minute ways. He looks at the price label on the shelf at eye-level and whistles a long low whistle._

MIKE: ( _to himself)_ Who would ever pay that much for a single beaker?

_His eyes scan up the display. He spots what he wants on the highest shelf. He reaches up, but it’s just out of his reach. He shift up onto his tippy-toes, leaning precariously toward the shelf of glassware._

MIKE: ( _to himself)_ Why do they always put the cheap stuff up so high?

_A sonorous male voice is heard off-screen._

MALE VOICE: Can I help you?

MIKE: ( _Not looking)_. No, I’ve got it.

_A pale, long-fingered hand reaches up and grabs the beaker easily and hands it to Mike. Mike turns to look at the man, who is now in his personal space. It is Sherlock Holmes, in his blue scarf and long coat. He blinks and takes a step back._

MIKE: Thanks.

SHERLOCK: Need any more?

MIKE: Yeah, better get three.

_Sherlock reaches up and grab three more beakers and places them in Mike’s basket._

MIKE: You don’t work here.

SHERLOCK: Nope.

MIKE: I’m sorry I was rude. I thought you worked here. The sales-staff here is always so pushy and I wanted to get out of here without extra test tubes if you know what I mean.

SHERLOCK: _(Commiserating)_ Yes. 

_Sherlock grabs six of the beakers at eye-level, the ones Mike had rejected earlier, and places them in his own basket. He scans Mike quickly, his eyes (and the camera) stopping at Mike’s eyes, neck, shirt-front, armpit, hands and shoes. He cocks small smile and extends his hand._

SHERLOCK: Sherlock Holmes.

MIKE: _(Taking and shaking the extended hand)_. Mike Stamford.

SHERLOCK: You work at St. Bart’s. _(Mike’s eyes widen and he looks down to see if he left a nametag on. He didn’t.)_ As an instructor and researcher, I believe.

MIKE: Yes, how did you know that?

SHERLOCK: You also live alone, take your coffee with milk, and despite attempts to repress your homosexual tendencies, you find me… attractive. Interesting. 

MIKE: That’s, that’s…

SHERLOCK: Brilliant. I know.

MIKE: But how?

SHERLOCK: I observe.  You are purchasing lab equipment, therefore you are likely some kind of scientist, but you’re purchasing it yourself, which indicates you are either self-employed, or work for a company with a limited budget, most likely the latter. Your hands are chapped, but only slightly. You wash your hands frequently, but not as frequently as someone who spends all day in a lab, therefore, an instructor of some sort who dabbles in research. School teachers often purchase their own supplies, but your shirt and tie are of high-quality – despite being stained with this morning’s coffee, which indicates an income level above that of a teacher. A university instructor or professor perhaps, but then you wouldn’t be purchasing your own equipment. Where then, do you find a place that pays their instructors reasonably well, but has a limited enough budget that one of them would purchase their own equipment? A teaching hospital in the National Health Service, naturally.

_Mike is stunned, but Sherlock barrels on._

SHERLOCK: Which begs the question, which one? The Royal is closest, but your underarms and shirt collar are sweaty, so you ran to catch a train, but the perspiration on your neck is mostly dried, meaning you rode for sometime between 10 and 15 minutes. St. Bart's is a 14 minute Tube ride from here, ergo, St. Bart’s.

MIKE: Fascinating.

SHERLOCK: Did I get anything wrong?

MIKE: You’re exactly right on everything. Excepting two points.

SHERLOCK: Two? Which ones?

MIKE: _(Mike steps a little closer)_ Not repressed.

SHERLOCK: Oh.

MIKE: _(Mike steps a little closer)_ And very.

SHERLOCK: Very?

MIKE: _(Nods)_ Very.

SHERLOCK: _(Steps back a little)_ But you do work at St. Bart’s?

MIKE: Yes. I teach pathology and do some research in the lab.

SHERLOCK: _(His eyes twinkle at the word pathology and he decides to get his flirt on. He places a hand on the shelf and leans toward Mike.)_ You know, I’ve always been fascinated by St. Bart’s, all the history. I’ve been to the Museum loads of times, but I’ve never seen the labs.

MIKE:  Would you like a tour sometime?

SHERLOCK: _(He leans in a little more)._ Oh yes. _(He straightens up.)_ In fact, I’m free right now.

MIKE: Now? Well yeah. Okay. I can do now.

SHERLOCK: We can take a cab. _(He flashes a winning smile)._ My treat.

**_THE PATHOLOGY LAB AT ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S HOSPITAL, LONDON_ ** _. The lab is empty, but the lights are on. We hear Mike and Sherlock in the hall._

MIKE: That was the morgue.

SHERLOCK: It was lovely. Brilliant. So many bodies.

MIKE: To each his own, I suppose.  _(Mike swings open the door and they enter)._ And this is the pathology lab.

SHERLOCK: Is it usually this empty? Not a bad thing mind you.

MIKE: More often than not it’s just me and Doctor Hooper.

SHERLOCK: Doctor Hooper?

MIKE: Molly. She’s probably just out to lunch. _(Mike looks at her microscope. Makes a face when he notices she left the bag of crisp behind)_. Nice gal. Quite bright. Bit quiet.

_Sherlock looks over Molly’s things and takes a peak into microscope._

SHERLOCK: Saliva analysis. I like her already.

MIKE: And she runs this – ( _Mike gestures to mass spectrometer.)_

SHERLOCK: Now I _really_ like her. _(Sherlock presses his hands and face to the glass, like a kid in front of a toy store)._  Do you think I could use it?

MIKE: ( _Mike shifts uncomfortably)_. It’s a rather delicate piece of equipment and there’s always a queue. Even _I_ rarely get to use it.

SHERLOCK: I’ve used one before. _(He tries his most charming expression)_ I have some soil samples that I would just _adore_ running through it.

_Mike picks up a clipboard hanging by locked door._

MIKE: Well, it looks like there’s an opening Tuesday next.

SHERLOCK: _(His voice comes out at a purr)_ Oh Michael, please say I can use it.

MIKE: You’ve really used one before?

SHERLOCK: Yes. At University. Loads of times.

MIKE: And you really do all those sorts of experiments in your own kitchen?

SHERLOCK: _(He gets puppy dog eyes)._ I have nowhere else to go.

MIKE: I could talk to Molly, see if it could work out…

SHERLOCK: Really?

MIKE: ( _Shrugs, confident.)_ Yeah, why not.

SHERLOCK: Mike Stamford, I could kiss you!

MIKE: _(Cheekily)_ It wouldn’t go amiss.

_Sherlock cocks an eyebrow, gives a “Why not” shrug, tilts his head and leans down and in. Mike leans into the kiss himself and places his hands on the back of Sherlock’s head. Mike steps in closer as the kiss lingers for a moment. Just enough to be a little awkward. Or hot. But probably awkward. Finally, Mike breaks away, grinning like a Cheshire Cat._

SHERLOCK: I don’t know that the tongue was entirely necessary.

MIKE: ( _Chuckles)._  You’re way out of my league. I figured it was my one shot, so I may as well make it worth it.

SHERLOCK: ( _Smiling)_ A fair enough assessment.

MIKE: So, Tuesday next?

SHERLOCK: Tuesday next. ( _He extends a hand.)_ Glad to have met you Mike Stamford.

MIKE _: (Shakes Sherlock’s hand.)_ Glad to have met you too.

The End.


End file.
